


I didn't even get to say goodbye

by StariNights



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst without a happy ending, Boys In Love, Canon Era, Christmas, M/M, Memories, Past Character Death, Winter, i feel bad for this, i.., im sorry, soft conlon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 15:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StariNights/pseuds/StariNights
Summary: //Memories forced themselves into Spot's mind.Hands wandering up his spine.Kisses trailing down his neck.The burning of whiskey in his throat as church bells rang in his ears.Smiles, laughter, love.WarmthNow everything was just cold.//(aka its Christmas and Spot always spends it with his Racer))





	I didn't even get to say goodbye

“Ey, Spots, you heading to see Racer today?” 

The aforementioned leader looked up from where he was wrapping a scarf tightly around his neck. He nodded gruffly, “Course I am, ‘s Christmas ain’t it?”

Spades looked at him with a slight smile, the gap in her teeth peeking out from behind her lips. “Yeah, course. Tell ‘im I says Merry Christmas, will ya’? An’ tell ‘im we miss ‘im over here.

He nodded again, opening the lodgings door and stepping out, “yeah, course.”

Puffing out against the cold New York winter air, Spot let the door fall shut behind him. He jerked at his sleeves, not yet used to the feeling of fabric on his arms. 

With his jaw set and his shoulders squared, he started towards the bridge.

~~~~~~

_ Spot glared across the empty bridge that connected Manhattan and Brooklyn, his sleeveless arms wrapped tightly around his middle. It was a hard year, after the war had ended and newspaper sales plummeted, not to mention the strike and losing a week’s pay, he didn’t have enough money to buy himself a jacket. _

_ Well, he did, but Laces had looked so cold in that old, ragged shirt of hers, and what kind of leader lets one of his littles freeze? _

_ Not the King of Brooklyn, that's for sure. _

_ After what felt like an hour, he had half a mind to leave, to run back to the lodgings and bury himself in his bunk. He'd give anything for a blanket right about now, and he was shaking so violently he could hear his teeth chattering. _   


_ Of course, that’s the moment Race decided to make his grand appearance. A head of golden hair peeked out from the horizon and Spot smiled, against his will really. The other boy was grinning as he ran to meet Spot. _

_ “Took ya long enough,” he grumbled. Race just laughed, that laugh that always reminded Spot of those old bells in the church. Loud and demanding of attention, but oh so beautiful. _

_   
_ _ Race glanced around, making sure they were alone, before pressing a kiss to Spot’s cheek. _

_ “Ain’t I worth the wait, though?” he asked cheekily _

_ Spot rolled his eyes, heat spreading across his face. “Yeah yeah, c’mon, I’se freezing my ass off here,” _

_ Race laughed again, and it was everything Spot could do not to smile. _

_ ~~~~~~ _

He stared at the bridge now, the church bells ringing in his ears. Stuffing his hat into his over-shirt, he set his jaw and started across that old bridge.  


The wind was killer, burning his ears with the force of it’s freezing blows. He sniffed, curling further in on himself.

Last winter, Race had held him until his old attic had felt like a furnace.

_ ~~~~~~ _   


_ “Ah, shit-” he hissed as Race’s still freezing hands found their way under his shirt. _

_ “Shhh, I'se cold” Race mumbled into his neck, cold fingers rubbing circles into his sides. _

_ “So’s I,” Spot grumbled back, not making any moves to stop his wandering hands. Race grinned into his neck and Spot huffed. _

_ Winter’s had never been so warm. _

_ ~~~~~~ _

Spot doesn’t think they’ve ever been this cold, not since he left. 

Spot took a sharp turn, heading to the Manhattan's lodging house. 

“Spot?” he jerked his head up to see Albert sitting on the stairs. The redhead smiled, “I was hopin’ you’d show,”

Spot shrugged, “I always come by on Christmas. Kelly come back this year?”

Albert’s face fell, and he shrugged, “nah, he’s done moved on. He an’ Dave got their own place last week, ya know? He’s done forgotten all about us newsies,”

Spot rolled his eyes, slinging an arm around Al’s shoulders. “Nah, you knows Kelly as well as I do. He’ll be back next week, talkin’ like he’s ya’ mama again, Mouth hot on his heels.”

Albert snorted, "yeah yeah, youse probably right" he nodded for Spot to follow him, "c'mon."

~~~~~~

_ "C'mon~" Racer pulled at his arm, dragging him up to the roof of the Manhattan lodgings house. Spot rolled his eyes, teeth poking out behind his lips in a soft smile as Race pulled his by the hand up the fire escape. _

_ They got to the top and Race huffed, grinning wildly and bouncing on his heels. Spot took in the view. Candles, a ragged blankets, and and old bottle of whiskey he knew Race didn't pay for. _

_ "Shit- Race?" He breathed, looking at the other boy whose blue eyes shone like the stars above. _

_ "Ya like it? I mean, I thought maybe I'se should do somethin' special since its, what? Our third Christmas together? An' ya never spend it on this side of the bridge so…" he trailed off, gesturing to the set up before them. He was still bouncing on his heels, grin as excited as ever. _

_ Spot smiled, a real, nose scrunching, face splitting, smile. He crossed the roof and pulled Race into a kiss, hands loosely gripping the collar of his shirt. _

_ "It's wonderful, Racer," he whispered, face only an inch away from the other's. _

_ ~~~~~~ _

Albert lead him to the little patch of land behind the lodgings, where the newsies had set up a makeshift graveyard years ago. Most of the bodies could never be recovered, but the twenty headstones made of old planks with names carved into them was enough for the newsies to remember their old friends.

Spot read each name as he walked past. 

_ Boots, Diamond Eyes, Blue, Icarus, Crutchie- _

_ Racetrack. _

_ ~~~~~~ _

_ Spot leaned back, grinning at Copper, who was getting his ass kicked at poker by Spades. _

_ "It ain't fair!" He complained as Spades beat him once again. _

_ "Life ain't fair, kid," she pulled his cap down in front of his eyes. Spot snorted as he sputtered in indignation. _

_ There was the sound of a slamming door, and Spot looked up to see Sticks leaning heavily on the wall. He raised an eyebrow at her. _

_ "What's got you all freaked, Sticks?" He asked, already sitting up. He expected something along the lines of one of his boys throwing fists or Bronx moving in on his territory. _

_ "Its Racetrack-" she huffed, and Spot's blood ran cold, "them Delanceys' got him cornered on the bridge. He ain't lookin to hot." _

_ Spot was up in an instant, not wasting any time to tell Spades to hold down the fort while he was gone. She knew what to do, and he trusted her. _

_ Right now, he just had to get to that bridge. _

_ ~~~~~~~ _

Albert looked at him with concern pulling at his usually upbeat features.

"Hey," he bumped his shoulder, "come get me if ya need someone to talk to, aight?"

Spot nodded stiffly, eyes not leaving the makeshift grave. He felt Albert's eyes lingering on him for a moment more before the redhead sighed and turned to head inside.

~~~~~~

_ Spots lungs screamed for air as he ran for the bridge. He didn't slow down, just pushed himself harder and the cold air ripped through his lungs and whipped at his hair. _

_ When he finally got to the bridge, he could see two figures standing over what looked like a body. _

_ A scream tore its way from his throat, and the two figures jumped. He slammed into one of them, shoving them away. _

_ They didnt put up any sort of fight, after all, no one fucks with the king of Brooklyn. He almost ran after them, but a cough from the lump on the ground commanded his attention much more than any revenge could. _

_ "Spotty?" He dropped to his knees as Racer tried a grin. Blood was flowing from his nose and his busted brow, coating his teeth in red. _

_ "Hey, hey Race, Racer- God- hey" his hands hovered over the broken boy in front of him, tears already flowing from his chocolate brown eyes, "don't worry, Stitches is on his way, we'se gonna get you all fixed up, we'se-" _

_ He froze as Race started a coughing fit, blood dripping from his mouth as he winced in pain. _

_ "Hey Spots, still think I'se pretty?" He grinned painfully, and Spot let out a wet laugh. _

_ "Course you is, you'se the prettiest bastard I'se ever laid eyes on" he assured him, pressing his forehead to Race's. It was so cold, and he refused to let himself think about how Stitches should have been here by now. _

_ Race huffed out a broken laugh, that turned into a sob about halfway through. He grabbed his hand, grip weakened considerably. _

_ "I don't wanna die here Spotty, I don't-" another coughing fit cut him off, and Spot carefully pulled him up into his lap, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He refused to think about how hard Race was shaking, or about the blood he had coughed up onto Spot's shoulder. He refused to think about it all because if he did, if he thought about what that meant, he would surely break. _

_ "Hey, Race- Tonio, Tonio its alright. I gots you," he rocked him carefully, nose buried in his golden curls and Race tucked his face into Spot's neck, he long fingers gripping loosely at the fabric in Spot's shirt. _

_ "I… I loves you, Sean" he felt Race's weak voice on his collar bone, and a sob broke free from his throat. _

_ "I loves you too, Antonio," he whispered, tears streaming down his face, "I love you more than I'se ever loved anyone before" _

_ The rest of that night was a blur. Race went cold, his golden curls fallen across his eyes. Arms pulling him away from the body as sirens rang in his ears. A long night of tears, bruised knuckles from hitting his walls, voice hoarse from screaming his way through the night. _

_ The cold. God, it was so so cold- _

_ ~~~~~~ _

Spot sat beside the wooden plank that bore his lover's name. Tears built up in his eyes as he started talking.

"Hey Tony, Merry Christmas from me an' the boys back in Brooklyn," he sniffed, "Spades told me ta tell ya she misses you, and ain't no ever beat her in a game since you left."

"Ya know, I miss ya, too. I…" he trailed off, the lump in his throat growing by the second. 

"I.. I miss your warmth. You was always so warm. Ya laugh, ya smile, even ya hair seemed to glow like the sun."

Memories forced themselves into Spot's mind.

_ Hands wandering up his spine. _

_ Kisses trailing down his neck. _

_ The burning of whiskey in his throat as church bells rang in his ears. _

_ Smiles, laughter, love. _

_ Warmth _

Now everything was just cold.

A sob wracked through his body, and he let it. "It ain't fair! Ya didn't- ya didn't even say goodbye! I had so much I wanted to tell ya and you didn't get to stick around to hear it!"

He jerked at his hair, trying desperately to lighten the tightening in his chest. It didn't work, and he just hiccups as another sobbed shook him violently.

"I loved you…" He whispered, head in his knees. The cold sunk into his bones, it felt colder than it should have. 

Maybe Race really did take the sun with him. Spot sure hasn't felt it since he left. He felt his tired eyes droop, and he knew somewhere in his mind he couldn't sleep in this weather, but he couldn't find the strength to get up.

"I loved you.." He whispered again, just as his mind slipped out of consciousness. He could have sworn there was a head on his shoulder, and a voice that whispered, 'I love you too'.

But he was asleep before he could really think about it.

**Author's Note:**

> I.... I have no excuse. I'm sorry. this was for an angst off between me and my friends. I'm still crying.


End file.
